


Slow Climb

by justdrifting



Category: Dollhouse
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-15
Updated: 2013-10-15
Packaged: 2018-02-09 02:47:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,061
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1966041
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justdrifting/pseuds/justdrifting
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's two months after the pulse goes off that he returns. (Epitaph verse)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Slow Climb

It’s two months after the pulse goes off that he returns, towing a motley band of seven or so people. They join the group that’s steadily been growing larger and larger since the pulse, welcoming the hot cup of cocoa and warm smiles. He stands on the edge, awkward, and gives only a slight nod when she meets his eyes.

It takes them three days to properly address each other, and even then it’s only:

“I should have known you’d be leading this party,” and his voice is dry and sarcastic; a cutting remark.

“And I should have known you’d still be alive. You never did give up without a fight.” Her tone mirrors his and it leaves a sour taste in her mouth; that the bitterness between them has not dissipated over time.

But there’s a strange look on his face as he gazes at her, and she turns away, uncomfortable and unnerved by the intensity in his stare. “Anyway, it’s good you’re here,” she says, stumbling over the words. “There’s work to be done. We could use you around.”

Despite their cold greetings and all the things still left unsaid, the apocalypse has changed things, and it takes her less than three weeks to start seeking out his company rather than avoiding it; his dry wit and snark a refreshing break from the talk of the brilliant new world that has been circling recently.

Sometimes, as they work side by side, she forgets they ever had a falling out in the first place; that everything is still like it was before. They’re much less formal this time around—no more ‘yes ma’am’, it’s all ‘Adelle’ now (she still calls him Mr Dominic, though she hates herself a little for her unwillingness to let go of stupid pretences)—and he flings insults at her like confetti, masterfully weaving them into their conversation.

She bears them, often without retaliation, partly because she feels she deserves it, and partly because she’s just too tired to be bothered with keeping up the hostility between them.

Three weeks later, she tells him this. They’re sitting out around a fire; he’s just shot another barb at her and she sighs, weary.

“It’s been over ten years, Mr Dominic, aren’t you sick of all this anger?” Her admission feels wrong: she isn’t used to speaking what she feels.

He meets her gaze over the fire, hard and heavy, and it seems tonight is a night for sharing truths and feelings, because he says, “Anger is all I have left when it comes to you. I don’t know what I’ll have left if it’s gone.”

Her breath catches in his throat at the weight of his words, and they stare at each other until he looks away.

It takes her four months since his arrival back into her to life to say the words, “I’m sorry,” and the words fall unwillingly from her lips. But, from the look he gives her—part surprise, part wonder—and his murmured, ‘Me too’, she thinks it’s worth it.

Seven months in, the inevitable happens. They crash together, fire and rage, and his lips burn a trail down her throat. She’s been deluding herself if she thought this wouldn’t happen. The looks, the inside jokes and secret smiles...it had all been building up recently but both had ignored it until it burst.

And now, as he carries her to his bed, she is glad that the want and need have finally overtaken the hate in this little game that they’re playing.

A year after the pulse, Echo, Priya, Tony and T come out, their memories still firmly intact. They’re making a brief stopover visit—“One night, that’s all we can stay.”—before heading on to Safe Haven.

Later that night, lying in bed with his fingers tracing lazy patterns over her bare back, he asks, “Are you sure you don’t want to go with them?” Her mind flashes back to Priya’s entreaty, earlier that evening, “ _Come with us, Adelle_ ,” and her hasty, awkward, “ _I’ll think about it._ ”

She turns to him, his hand stilling its movement. “I don’t think I can go back there. Not after...”

“Topher,” he finishes for her, understanding. She’s told him enough about her time during the apocalypse for him to appreciate why she can’t.

“Exactly,” she agrees. “I don’t think that place can ever be home again.” She searches his face, far more open that it ever would have been before. “I think...here is home now. Or close enough, anyway.”

There’s a pause, where she thinks maybe she’s spoken too soon, before he says, “I agree,” with a smile.

The next morning she tells Priya she’s staying, and she watches them drive away, knowing she won’t regret this decision, because there’s something better here.

It takes them four and a half years: months and months of gruelling, back breaking hard work, but finally, finally, they restore LA enough to make it habitable and functional. She feels such satisfaction at the success and achievement of this job, though of course it was not just them; the task would have been impossible without the thousands of people who pitched in to rebuild the city.

They stand hand in hand, looking out on all they have achieved. “Was it worth it, do you think?” he asks, gazing across at her. “Don’t you think some power-hungry monster is going to come along and destroy everything again, just like Rossum did?”

“It was worth it,” she assures him, confident. “Even if, later on, it does get destroyed again, it’ll still be worth it.”

She turns to face him, taking both his hands in hers, moving so she is silhouetted against the backdrop of the city they have created.

“Besides,” she says, “it was worth it anyway, just for this.” She leans forward to kiss him, then wraps her arms around his waist when they part.

He grins at her, and there is nothing of the hostility he harboured against her for so long. It makes his eyes look clearer, she thinks, now that he isn’t angry any more. They’ve been through a lot, the two of them, but somehow, through the years, they’ve managed to come out on top. She returns his smile easily.

“It’ll be worth it, because through fixing the world, we’ve fixed us in the process.”


End file.
